Shuanglan entered the hall and massaged Yu Qijian’s lower back using the technique taught by the imperial physician.
Lying there comfortably, Yu Qijian thought about her past life—sitting for long hours until her waist ached, still forcing herself to continue working with only a cushion for support. A sour, swollen feeling rose in her chest, and she softly said, “Thank you.”
Shuanglan froze. She had served Yu Qijian for over ten years and was hearing such words for the first time. Ever since the Empress Dowager had lost her memory, her personality had changed greatly… and Shuanglan liked this version of her.
She quickly blinked and smiled shyly. “This servant only did what she was supposed to. Without Your Highness, there would be no me today.”
Yu Qijian said nothing more. She was merely a usurper occupying someone else’s body.
After a brief silence, she buried her face into the pillow and said calmly, “Shuanglan, later replace all the palace servants in the Palace of Eternal Peace. Especially the eunuchs—I don’t want to use eunuchs at all. Replace them all with maidservants.”
“Tell the kitchen to prepare more good food. Mental labor is exhausting. The diet must keep up.”
“From today onward, close the doors and refuse all visitors.”
Shuanglan bit her lip after hearing this and asked carefully, “Your Highness, replacing palace servants must go through the Imperial Secretariat or require the Empress Seal. Should this servant report to the Imperial Secretariat, or…”
“The Empress Seal,” Yu Qijian said—then abruptly lifted her head, suddenly realizing something had been quietly strangling her all along.
“…I don’t have it, do I?”
“At present… the Empress Seal is indeed held by the Imperial Secretariat. On the day of your coronation, the Chief Eunuch told you.”
“……”
That meant she was nothing more than a decorative figurehead. Everything she said could be dismissed like air.
No wonder Fang Jinxian had been so calm at the Hall of Literary Glory—he was simply watching her throw a tantrum like a powerless puppet.
Yu Qijian cursed under her breath. She understood having no real power, but not even having a symbolic seal?
What kind of hell difficulty start was this? What was the Yu Clan even doing?
Why did every carefully considered decision of hers end in something absurd?
She tried again, grasping at hope. “There’s a wooden box in my dressing table drawer. There’s a seal inside.”
“That is Your Highness’s personal seal,” Shuanglan replied.
Yu Qijian accepted this reality in exactly one second.
Life had long taught her how to cope: fine, then. This time it doesn’t count. Next time, don’t treat yourself so seriously.
Shuanglan looked at her anxiously. “Your Highness…”
“The weather today is so nice,” Yu Qijian said, face down on the bed. “Not too hot. Perfect weather for hanging oneself.”
Shuanglan screamed in panic. “Your Highness, absolutely not!”
“The rich all go to the city for euthanasia, and I’m still here in the village looking for leftover pesticides, only to find out it’s dog urine.”
“Your Highness…”
“I feel like my life is a failure. I wipe my tears, stand up, tell myself I can start over, and then I can’t even tell east from west and end up walking straight to hell.”
Shuanglan burst into tears.
Yu Qijian also burst into tears with her.
The Hall of Literary Glory was dead silent.
Zhao Yan continued writing the assignment left by the teacher.
After a long while, he heard the faint rustle of robes.
Fang Jinxian straightened again, picked up the earlier memorial, and continued reviewing it.
His profile under the window light was calm, as if the earlier confrontation had never happened.
After finishing a copy of calligraphy practice, Zhao Yan finally set down his brush and broke the silence.
“Chief Eunuch.”
“Your Majesty.”
“She… is angry.” Zhao Yan stated plainly. “Very angry.”
“Yes.” The reply was indifferent.
“Why? Chief Eunuch said we should make her feel at ease and align with us. But Chief Eunuch seems to be forcing her.”
“Your Majesty,” Fang Jinxian said calmly, “human hearts are like deep pools. Sometimes one must throw in a stone to know their depth.”
“Did you find out her depth?”
Fang Jinxian replied, “The Empress Dowager has temperament and boundaries, and a bit of courage. Unfortunately, she is not thorough enough.”
Not good, not bad—just an evaluation.
But Zhao Yan felt a faint sense of disappointment he couldn’t explain.
“I understand. But she is very angry now. You made her leave. She may never treat me sincerely again.”
Fang Jinxian let out a barely audible laugh. “Is Your Majesty blaming me?”
Zhao Yan shook his head.
“Does Your Majesty want her back?”
Zhao Yan did not answer immediately.
Last night, he had not had nightmares. For a brief moment, he had not been drowned in grief over his father’s death—because of her warmth, separated only by enough space for two more people, yet still reaching him.
That woman pinched his face, told strange stories, and also coldly questioned him: “This dowager is asking you.”
And so he still gave the same answer: she was his father’s empress, therefore she was his Mother Empress.
Fang Jinxian’s smile did not reach his eyes as he picked up his brush again.
“Rest assured, Your Majesty. If she is intelligent, she will return.”
“Why?”
“Because intelligent people know how to weigh options—and they are unwilling to be excluded from the game.”
Zhao Yan nodded faintly, then asked in a small voice, “Chief Eunuch… are you angry?”
“Why would I be angry? What the Empress Dowager said is not wrong.” Fang Jinxian did not even look up. “Your Majesty’s lessons end here. Consider whether you wish to return to the Palace of Eternal Peace—or move back to the Hong Palace.”
Yu Qijian had finished crying. She wiped Shuanglan’s tears and said, “Since it’s come to this, serve the meal. Bring me iced almond cream—with extra honey beans.”
Shuanglan was still sniffing, her eyes red like a rabbit. “O-okay… this servant will go now.”
She stumbled slightly as she left—strangely endearing.
Yu Qijian stood up and walked to the dressing table, taking out the wooden box.
If she couldn’t flip the table, then she would at least sit at it and eat.
At least there were still things that belonged to her.
Inside the box lay a small jade seal, warm and smooth, engraved with the characters “Qi Jian.”
What could one do with a personal seal?
As she was thinking, footsteps came from outside.
Not Shuanglan.
Yu Qijian immediately shoved the seal back into the drawer, turned around, and sat on the edge of the bed. Her expression instantly became slightly weak and ill.
The footsteps were light, and there was no announcement.
If she wasn’t mistaken…
“Mother Empress.”
This was Zhao Yan’s first time calling her “Mother Empress.”
Yu Qijian couldn’t quite describe what she felt.
After her outburst in the Hall of Literary Glory, if Fang Jinxian were petty, he would never allow Zhao Yan to see her again—she would be completely sidelined in the Palace of Eternal Peace.
Yet this child… seemed to have truly accepted her?
Zhao Yan still had that calm, unreadable expression, but his small face was undeniably cute as he stood in front of her.
“Is your body feeling better?”
Yu Qijian replied politely, “It no longer hurts. Thank you for sending the imperial physician, Your Majesty.”
Zhao Yan frowned slightly. “That is what I should do.”
Yu Qijian suddenly felt an urge to pinch him.
He still had baby fat, yet insisted on acting so serious and mature—it was too adorable.
Unable to resist, she reached out and cupped his face with both hands, squishing it gently.
“Have you truly accepted me as your Mother Empress?”